


What's Yours, is Mine (and whats mine is mine)

by louberating



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, M/M, Rimming, fucking shit man do i love rimming, i guess i had to add blow jobs in there too huh?, i thought this would be dirty but the fluff just crept up on me, lots and lots of rimming, oh no anal either, soorryy guys, the dirty talk game is strong in this one too, theres accidental fluff at the end i???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-01
Updated: 2013-10-01
Packaged: 2017-12-27 10:11:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/977531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louberating/pseuds/louberating
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis' wearing Harry's purple, plaid flannel when Harry comes home from a run at Tescos</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's Yours, is Mine (and whats mine is mine)

**Author's Note:**

> basically i saw tags on tumblr -that i lost- and i wanted it sooo bad
> 
> logically i had to write it
> 
> it's not edited because im lazy so there WILL be mistakes

They literally just got back from tour and the first thing Harry does is go to Tescos to get a carton of milk because _it's been forever, lou, and the milk is long past spoiled. plus you love a splash of milk in your morning tea._ So that's basically why Louis is left alone in the bedroom, unpacking both of their suitcases and throwing the dirty clothes in the laundry basket. It honestly surprises him that Harry has burned the idea into Louis' head that dirty clothes and clean clothes stay seperate for reasons Louis didn't bother to listen for. It's revolutionary, really.

He's just finished his bag, slipping on a pair of joggers he had found at the bottom of the case. He unzips Harry's bag to see everything already folded and seperated into clean and dirty sides. It's kinda like he knew that Louis do the unpacking, the twat. He grabs the clean t-shirts and just stuffs them into Harry's drawer. He kinda deserves it for leaving Louis alone and in charge of shit. Seriously, don't leave Louis in charge of shit. He carelessly dumps the rest of the clothes into the laundry bin before he unzips the little nooks and crannys of Harry's suitcase. 

He puts away ther toothbrushes, hair gel, blow dryer and just other things that men should not have in a house unless there is a woman on the premises. So they're not cared of cliches, sue them. Once he's done, and brushes his teeth just for the hell of it, he plops himself on the bed facing up. He's tired. Not like falling feeling it through your bones kind of tired, but like, sick of the human race kind of tired. 

It's not that he hates his life, because he doesn't; he loves his life with all his might. It's just that they can never find a break for anything. Harry is probably getting swamped at the shop at this moment. It's what they signed up for, though. They all knew they would be known in the UK because of X Factor, but if you told them that they would be the worlds most popular boyband ever two years ago, all five of them would laugh in your face.

But now it's happened and they have to tough it out. Well, not tough it out. That makes it sound like its a job, doing what they do. You never work a day in your life if you do what you love, and they all love this. They love that they are being stopped every five inutes by fans, they love that some people have their eye color down to a T, they all love how dedicated the fans are. The fans are what they love. That's basically it. It was all the fan's decisions as to whether or not the would become as famous as they did. So, yeah, they love the fans tonnes and tonnes.

Now he doesn't have anything to do, and his boy toy has gone for a stupid milk run. It really isn't stupid though, because he does get quite cranky without his morning tea. 2 points for Harry, then.

Speaking of boy toy, they haven't been able to get any alone time during their American leg of the tour because the American fans are kinda determined to prove whatever is going on between him and Harry is true. It's nice that they fight for them, but it just calls for more clean-up meetings and it just seperates him and Harry more. So, yeah, it's the thought that counts, he guesses.

Louis' stomach dropped when he thought about Harry. God, it hasn't been 15 minutes yet and Louis already feels lonely and lost. He's a lost cause basically. He's one to admit it, too; he's not afriad to tell -the people who matter- that he's a lost puppy without Harry. And all of those people will agree with him everytime. Whatever.

He walks back into their room and picks up the first shirt he finds of Harry's, which happens to be a completely hideous purple flannel that Harry has refused multiple times to throw away. _It has character, lou. It represents my inner rebel. Maybe i keep it so you can fall apart while wearing it._

The last one wasn't probably meant for Louis' ears, but he's heard it. Quite frankly, he can't get it out of his mind. Yes, it's a nasty, greasy, dirty looking things but _god_ does he want to see Harry between his thighs while he is trembling and biting on the collar. The thought alone has Louis sporting a hard on. So he slips off his t-shirt and pulls of the ugly peice of cloth. He walks to the full body mirror and just kinda stares.

It's huge, is was it is. The sleeves were rolled up and still they fall way past his elbows. The collar of the shirt passes his collarbones by a long shot, and the bottom hem is pulled down a little more than past his thighs. Louis slips off his sweats to see the full picture, and man does he like it. His boxer-briefs are hugging his erection and when he turns to the side, the back of the flannel bunches up at the curve of his bum. He lashes his hand through his hair to mess it up a bit, and when he looks back at the mirror he giggles a bit because he's so turned on by the thought of taking him apart like this. He's just so _small_.

So it's just a waiting game, now. Louis will wait for Harry to burst through the front door and catch Louis in the kitchen with his legs crossed and his elbow resting on his knee, which his chin will be resting on. The perfect picture of innocence, apart from the raging boner, of course.

Louis waits 7 minutes and 39 seconds before he hears the ulocking of their front door and the slamming followed after, the rustling sound of a plastic bag getting closer and closer. Footsteps are walking around the living room, "Lou! I got the milk. Want me to make you some tea?" a few beats of slilence go on before he can hear Harry patter to their room presumably.

He can vaguely hear Harry's "Lou? Louis?" before he hears the heavy beats of feet walking to the kitchen. Louis scrambles on the kitchen table top, trying to look as sexual as possible. He throws the innocence out of the window and sits back on his elbows with his legs dangling off the edge. He shifts around so his thighs are parted slightly, hopefully giving a good view of the problem in his pants.

A few moments later, Harry is walking through the swinging kitchen door, and when his eyes catch Louis he goes stiff. Louis would laugh if this were a situation he could laugh in, but it's not, so he won't.

"Hazza?" Louis asks with innocence. So maybe it will work for a bit.

Harry walks over to the fridge behind Louis, and puts the milk a away before he turns to stare at Louis, leaning back on the fridge. "Yeah?"

Louis turns his head to the side a bit so Harry can see his profile. "I'm horny." Louis whines. He brings one of his hands to his thighs and trails it slowy up to his hip and trails it back down. He does this three times before he lays flat on his back and turns his head to stare into Harry's eyes. "Touch me?" Louis takes his right hand and trails it up his chest while his left hand toys with the band of his briefs. "I've been a good boy and haven't touched myself." he widens his eyes a bit, he knows Harry's weakesses.

Harry uncrosses his arms and walks over to Louis' legs. "Been such a good boy, haven't you?" Harry asks. He gently takes Louis' hand a way from the band and slaps the elastic with his own fingers. "You're so hard, baby." he takes his hand a traces his feather lightly. 

Louis whimpers and bites the sleeve of his left hand, "For you." he says, muffled by cloth. His right hand meets Harry's and they tangle their finger for a few seconds, staring at each other. "Kiss me?" Louis asks. He rolls his body up and meets Harry half way. It's rushed, frantic and its everything that represents them; Louis loves it. 

Harry trails his kisses from Louis' neck, to his jaw. Leaving a few lovebites in his wake. They will most definitely be seen in pictures later, but that's seriously the least of his worries right now. He can feel Harry's tongue lick just behind his ear, "You're so fucking hot, baby." and nips his earlobe before trailing his kisses down Louis' chest. Louis really, really want's Harry's tongue now.

"Harry, eat me? Please?" he whispers, no shame at all. He so hard, he's waited forever, and he's starting to ache a bit. He really needs this right now.

 Harry immidiately halts his movements on Louis' navel, "God, _yes_." he nips one more time on Louis' collar bone before he pushes Louis up the table. "Feet flat on the table, princess." and fuck if that isn't the hottest thing Louis' heard. Louis chucks off his pants before settling back on his elbows, feet flat on the table and thighs wide open for Harry.

It's gotta be a sight for Harry, be cause he's just staring. He should feel vulnerable in this state, he really should, but fuck he's so horny and he's spread wide open for Harry and any second he's going to have his tongue and yes, life is fucking great right now.

If only Harry would fucking get on with it. "C'mon, Harry, so fucking horny for you, babe." he's tugging at his own cock now, needing the slight release before he explodes.

Harry shakes his head out, curls bouncing in the intertia. "Look so good, Lou. So open so wide for me. Love it. Love you." Louis loves Harry, too. A lot even, but he doesn't want tenderness right now. He want to be driven crazy, frustrated, on the edge, so close frmom tipping but it not being enough. That's what Louis wants.

Harry is finally bending down and Louis can feel his hot breath ghosting over his entrance. He can feel Harry's lighter than air touches on his inner thigh; this is what Louis is asking for. _Yes_.

 The first touch is so light it's like it didn't happen, it makes Louis hallucinate and feel like he's falling. The second stroke is much better, fuller, fatter, wetter. It's what Louis always wants, what he always thinks about. Be it night, day, concert, behind the scenes. The third is the exact same thing except with a little flick at the end. It absolutely blissful; Louis is in heaven. He clenches the sleeves of the flannel in his palm for something to grasp onto.

He lays flat out on his back again, tugging roughly on his cock, the other tugging on Harry's hair. He licking so quick and fast that Louis has no time to register on stroke before another is being smacked on top of that. It's driving him crazy, the sound of Harry's tongue slicking up his hole. He can hear Harry's moans and the thought that Harry is getting off on this makes it ten times hotter.

Louis clenches his eyes, "Fuck, Harry!" He trails his tongue from Louis' hole to just under Louis' balls, then back down. "Shit, babe. Fuck, yes." He lifts his head to look for two seconds before he loses strength and drops it back down.

 He feels so much like a girl, it's so fucking great. Being eaten out is probably the best feeling in the world, then add the love of your life; shit, it's basically heaven. Harry is probbing into Louis with so much ease, Louis is letting himself go. He moans at every swipe, lick, probe, and even when Harry takes a second to catch his breath. His hot breath on any sensitive part of your body is anything anybody could want in like.

Harry takes one hand and swipes away Louis' hand on his cock, and resuming the action hiself. Harry's hands are rougher, and calloused and just.. ten times better than Louis' hands could ever be. Plus Harry's tongue, Louis is on sensory overload and he seriously needs to cum. It's not enough. "Fuck, Harry. Wanna - cum." he manages.

Harry's head rises from between Louis' thighs, "Yeah, baby? Want me to suck you off?"

If those aren't some of the hottest words to ever have come out of that innocent mouth then Louis' life is a lie. All he can manage is a whimper and a slow, soft nod with wide eyes and pouted lips. The picture of submissive. And then he's just swalled down at once. Like, one secind he's flicking his nails in anticipation and the next he's being deep throated by the love of his life. It's kinda surreal.

He lifts his head to look down at his cock appearing and disappearing between Harry's rosy red lips. The boys always make fun of Harry for always looking like he just sucked the lfe out of a lolli; the color was so red.

Harry is sucking like he's made for this. Like his one true calling in life is to suck off Louis Tomlinson. His lips mould perfectly around the little ridges and veins on Louis' dick. It's a beautiful sight, really.

He's moaning like he's never felt a mouth on him at all, and that's what Harry does to him. Harry reduces him to a whiny, needy little slut. Harry has Louis asking for more and he just _gives gives gives_. He tugs on Harry's hair, and it makes Harry bob faster. He pulls off the flick his tongue just under the head and it happens all at once. He's coming onto Harrys face without warning and he can see Harry shudder through his hazy, blurry eyes.

He watches as Harry rests his forhed on Louis' hipbone. They just take a minute to take it all in. They've have the best orgasms in months and it was the hottest thing they've done in months. The fast get-offs in the tour bus are nothing compared to being at home, their own space, and letting every moan, whine, whimper and shake out. It's exhilerating.

Harry lifts his head from Louis' side with the biggest grin, "I've just cum in my pants. That just happened." and he laughs. He flat out laughs, and it's _so them_. Harry falls back onto his ass and just laughs it out. Two seconds later, Louis joins in because why the fuck not. So they laugh, for fives minutes or five hours. But by the time they die down, the cum is dry on Louis' tummy and he's starting to feel itchy.

"Harry, can we shower?" he asks as he lifts his underwear over his now flaccid dick. 

Harry looks up at him, "You're so fucking beautiful, Lou" he says. it shouldn't be special because he reminds Louis atleast 5 times a weel, but it's so fucking precious nd so fucking Harry, it makes him blush every single time.

"I fucking love you Harry Styles." Louis replies, pulling Harry from the ground and walking them to the bathroom. 

20 minutes later, when they're showered and on the brink of sleep, Harry speaks up "Were you wearing my flannel?"

The question almost makes Louis laugh. Almost, "Yeah." is all he replies.

"I thought you hated it."

"I do."

"Then w-" he get's cut off by Louis' lips.

"Sleep now, baby."


End file.
